


Rite of Flowers

by ContraryIzybel



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, Matchmaking, Protective Uncle Thorin, Rites of Passage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:04:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContraryIzybel/pseuds/ContraryIzybel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Frodo Baggins came to breakfast with flowers braided into his hair Thorin dismissed it as charming hobbit nonsense. His little (adopted) nephew was often gathering flowers and things that meant more to hobbits that jewels or gold. It certainly wasn't a sign that he was ready for things like adulthood and courting. Not his little Frodo. Right? Right.</p><p>Oh bother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bellflowers

There were a great many things that could irritate the king under the mountain. His nephews gallivanting through the halls, one still using a crutch to move and the other with his arm wrapped in a heavy cast, would be top of the list of irritations. But even Thorin could admit boredom in the face of financial reports and even he could admit, silently, that any distraction would be a welcomed one. 

"Uncle! Great news!" Kili called, ignoring the dwarf who'd be presenting his latest report to the king. "A caravan approaches!" 

Since the reclaiming of Erebor there had been a great many caravans, dwarves who'd be scattered to the winds ready to return home. It brought its own brand of madness, but a welcome madness. The kind that spoke of kin, of families reuniting for the first time in ages and settling down in the halls of their ancestors. The mountain was alive again, and even if it was difficult rationing space and food it was well preferred to the boredom of listening to financial reports.

"From the Blue Mountains?" Thorin asked, already pulling himself from his chair and dismissing the poor scribe who'd been trying to keep his attention. The lad just bowed before scurrying away, knowing he was done for the day. Everyone knew the king liked to greet as many caravans as he could. 

Fili nodded his head, braids whipping about wildly. "Yes and you'll never guess who's with them!" 

Thorin's mind hurried over anyone special who may have been missing yet from their kingdom, stopping on one particular name. "Do not tease." 

“We’re not teasing!” Kili said with an indignant huff.

Fili continued his enthusiastic nodding. "It's Bilbo!" 

With no regard for the elegance of kings Thorin was off, running through the halls as fast as he could. His legs groaned in protest, still unsteady after the Battle of the Five Armies but he couldn't be bothered to care. Not after so long, not after so many nights of wondering if his hobbit had changed his mind and settled back in his little hobbit hole in the Shire. Through the rush of blood that clouded his hearing he could still catch the sound of his nephews at his heels, both laughing breathlessly. 

He was through the gates before they finished opening, forced to stop when Dwalin grabbed the back of his collar like he was a naughty child. He couldn't complain, mostly because he hadn’t the time, not when he heard his name and saw the small shape running towards him. 

At least Dwalin was polite enough to release him instead of making him try in vain to escape the hold. 

The solid form of a determined hobbit slammed into his chest at full force, causing him to stumble back and fall into the mud that remained from the storm the night before. He could feel the cool wetness seeping into his clothes, could see where he left streaks of mud on Bilbo's cheeks where his fingers touched. And as Bilbo's stuttered apologies washed over him Thorin felt something warm settle in his chest. 

Bilbo was home. 

"Thorin Oakenshield, you're not even listening to me!" The hobbit huffed, beating one small fist against his chest. 

"No, I wasn't. You'll have to repeat it later." He continued stroking Bilbo's face, amused when his hands were batted away so he could brush off the mud. 

"Honestly, give you a crown and you start acting like a child." Bilbo's eyes widened and he looked behind him suddenly. "Oh, I almost forgot. Come here, lad. We're done being silly." 

When Thorin sat up he found himself staring at impossibly wide blue eyes and a mess of curly black hair. It was only a moment later that he realized it was a small child those eyes and hair belonged to. A hobbit, if the bare feet were anything to go by. The boy was half hiding behind the leg of a pony, obviously torn between going to Bilbo and looking for a better hiding place. In the end he rushed Bilbo, curling into his arms and staring at Thorin with those incredibly blue eyes. 

"Thorin Oakenshield, may I introduce my nephew, Frodo Baggins. Frodo darling, this is Thorin. The king from my stories." 

As he spoke Bilbo lifted one of Frodo's hands, offering it to Thorin who took it gently. "A pleasure, little one. I'm sure I must not be quite the picture of royalty at the moment." 

The boy shrugged, reluctantly taking his hand back after a moment. "Nice ta meet you." 

The caravan was almost upon them and it was with a great sigh that Thorin stood, pulling Bilbo up beside him. He made sure to offer a look to Bilbo, one that informed the hobbit that they would be having words later, before turning to his people, hoping they wouldn't be too put out by a king who rolled in the mud. 

It was somewhere between greeting the leader of the caravan, a blacksmith who had helped care for his family when Thorin had to work in the villages of men, and greeting a few old grandmothers who still carried their axes that Thorin found himself with Frodo hiding behind his legs. From the corner of his eye he noticed Bilbo was being all but fought over by the members of the company who'd come running when they heard their burglar was back. He paused in his conversation with one of the ladies to swoop Frodo up in one arm, allowing the boy to tuck his face into the fur of Thorin's collar. 

The grandmothers all cooed appropriately at the lad, telling stories of how well mannered he had been during their travels and taking turns pinching at his cheeks. Frodo only huffed a little, taking the attention with the grace of someone who'd obviously been exposed to more than his fair share of cheek pinching. 

It took almost two hours before the whole of the caravan made it into the mountain and Frodo had fallen asleep on Thorin's shoulder in almost half that time. Bilbo had managed to escape the company's affection and tried reclaiming Frodo but after a sound that was not a whine, no matter what Bilbo said later, no one tried to take the boy from the king's arm. 

"He's why you took so long getting back." Thorin said as they made their way to the apartment that had been set aside for Bilbo before he left the mountain almost a year before. A few young dwarves had been recruited to carry Bilbo's things but otherwise it was just Thorin and the two hobbits in the hall, allowing for more frank discussion. 

"His parents died while I was gone. Boating accident, I’ve been told. Some Brandybuck relatives were taking care of him but they had so many of their own fauntlings." Bilbo reached out to brush aside a misplaced curl on Frodo's forehead, smiling at the sleeping child. "He's actually my cousin but I think he'd do better with an uncle." 

"I think you're right." He shifted his grip, securing his hold on Frodo so he could reach out and take Bilbo's hand. "I dislike how long it took you to return, but I am glad you're here now." 

Bilbo laughed, allowing his fingers to entwine with Thorin's. "That's downright affectionate from you. But I missed you as well." 

Bilbo's apartments had been fine for a single hobbit, but now with the weight of a child in his arms Thorin wondered if he should take the suite next to it as well. As it stood Bilbo had three bedrooms to his disposal, as well as a receiving room, a small kitchen and two bathrooms. He hadn't told Bilbo about the door connecting the apartment to his own rooms, something he'd added during Bilbo's absence, but he'd certainly notice soon enough. Maybe he could use that as an illusion to more space, so Bilbo wouldn't move further. 

"You're thinking especially loud this evening." Bilbo remarked as he directed the dwarven lads with their packages. 

"Would it be forward of me to make the boy a bed? Not many survived the dragon's occupation." Thorin hadn't really been thinking of such practical things but his mind jumped on the distraction from his actual thoughts. 

Bilbo looked towards the second room which he'd obviously been planning to have Frodo stay in. "Oh, there won't be a rush. He sleeps better with company right now. Maybe in a few months when he's calmed to Erebor. Why would it be forward?" 

He didn't blush. Kings did not blush. Though his cheeks did heat. "It is rare for someone outside a child's immediate family to make things like that. Usually it is the work on a father." Unconsciously his fingers reached up to thread through Frodo's curls, causing him to squirm in his sleep. 

"He’d do well with you for a father. But don't you dare trick him into calling me mother, Thorin." 

And somehow that managed to be the end of that conversation. 

It was almost two weeks later when Thorin presented Frodo his newly crafted bed, covered in carved scenes featuring the creatures that resided in both the Shire and in the land around Erebor as well as flowers and all manner of things that would please a small hobbit. But even as he tried and keep it simple he still added precious gems among the flowering petals, and silver inlaid among the engraved vines. 

Between his own work and his attempts at showering Bilbo and Frodo in the affection they both deserved after such a long trip, Thorin had few minutes to himself. But he found the detail work calmed him, allowing his fingers to relax for the first time since returning to the mountain. It also helped distract him from the company that claimed Bilbo's attention and the princes that had taken up Frodo as their newest playmate. He knew his own failings and the selfish desires could be pushed aside by hard work. 

Besides, the brothers had turned their own selfish affection on Frodo and rarely allowed anyone else close to the lad. With the obvious exception of Bilbo, who didn’t hesitate sending crowned princes to sit in corners and think about their behavior. 

Sometimes it was hard to remember they were closer to adulthood than childhood, especially when they ignored their studies to chase the giggling hobbit through the hallways. 

The work did not stop him from spending him with the pair at dinner, usually with Frodo curled up beside him, endlessly chattering about whatever adventure had been dreamed up during the day. The little one had taken a shine to Thorin and the king returned the affection so easily it often concerned him. But in his attentions he often noticed the shadows under the boy's eyes, and the loud yawns he suffered from in the morning. 

Bilbo said he wasn't sleeping well, and still refused to spend the night alone. All the more reason for Thorin to finish his project quickly. 

That, and he felt the child needed at least a few treats to welcome him to his new home. 

"A present, if you can allow your uncle a night's sleep to himself." Thorin said when he finally finished his work. He had insisted on carrying Frodo to the room, covering the boy's eyes with a heavy hand. Frodo didn't hesitate to scramble free of Thorin's hold, jumping onto the bed. He was quickly followed by his new cousins who were equally eager to test the bed’s strength. The two princes pulled their new favorite hobbit in for tickles and light pinches when he started bouncing on the bed, making Thorin and Bilbo roll their eyes in unison. 

"I love it, Uncle Thorin!" Frodo said before covering his mouth with both hands. 

There was a moment of silence before Bilbo moved forward from where he'd been watching, easily plucking Frodo from Kili's grip and touching their foreheads together. From where he stood, practically frozen, Thorin could see tears forming in the boy's eyes and his little hands clinging to Bilbo's hair. 

"'m sorry, 'm really sorry." He whispered as Bilbo made shushing sounds. 

The sad noise freed Thorin, allowing him to stride forward and catch one of Frodo's hands. "I do not mind you calling me uncle. In fact, it would please me if you continued to do so." 

He could hear the exaggerated sniffling from his own nephews but ignored them in favor of pulling Frodo into his arms and rubbing away the tears that had fallen down his cheeks. 

"Really?" 

And it was then that Thorin decided it didn't matter if he held Bilbo's cousin. Frodo was his, just as much as he was Bilbo's, and he wouldn't let the child doubt it again. The same possessive love he felt for his own kin overtook him, not the first time around a Baggins it seemed, and he rubbed his forehead against Frodo's gently. "Really, little one. I would be honored to be your uncle." 

And he really meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love little Frodo, and I love the idea of Thorin being a super protective uncle figure to him. But while this will be a lot about Thorin and Frodo's relationship I'm also torn between a lot of endgame romance possibilities. Current thought is Fili/Frodo/Kili, but Frodo/Legolas is also tempting. I'm seriously torn. Thoughts?


	2. Sweetbrier

Among dwarves of Middle Earth there are few who knew much about hobbits, and all of those who knew next to anything about hobbits lived in the halls of the Lonely Mountain. Among those dwarves the ones who knew the absolute most would be the scribes of the royal library, the advisor to the King, and the King himself. His heirs liked to claim they knew plenty about hobbits but such claims lead to rolling eyes and hearty laughs so eventually they stopped presenting themselves as hobbit scholars. 

But really, the most knowledgeable in the mountain about the nature of hobbits would be the two hobbits in resident. 

The King under the Mountain came in a close third.

It certainly helped that he was married to one of them. 

Thorin knew all the holidays celebrated among hobbits, as well as their calendar and their rituals. He knew about the obscure practices, the practical practices and most things in between. Not to brag, which he certainly would if prompted, but he probably knew as much as the average hobbit knew. 

But even he was confused when his adopted nephew came into the dining hall at the start of second breakfast (hobbit dining was a well known tidbit among the mountain and had managed to catch on almost overnight) with a bundle of flowers braided into his curly black hair. The rest of the company, those of whom could be bothered to make it to breakfast, second or otherwise, regarded him for a moment before turning back to their food. Hobbit nonsense, obviously. Nothing worth being distracted from food. 

At least that was what Thorin thought before Bilbo began choking at his side. 

“Is something wrong?” He asked, slapping Bilbo on the back with slightly less force than he’d show towards another member of their table. Thorin spared a glance at Frodo who'd been quickly pulled down to sit beside Kili who, with little care for personal space, had started an inspection of the braid Frodo wore. It all seemed innocent enough, but Bilbo couldn't drag his eyes from the sight even as he gasped for air. 

“Sorry, no time to explain.” He announced, standing quickly and actually dragging Frodo from the dining hall while whispering frantically. 

The dwarves, chattering gossips that they secretly were, began hissing back and forth as soon as the doors closed. Fili and Kili almost followed after the pair, though if it was to protect the boy who’d been their closest friend since his arrival so many years before or if it was an attempt to find reason to tease Frodo was unknown. They would have managed their escape if their uncle hadn’t been watching the doors so intensely. It only took a loud growl before they were slinking back to their seats. 

“That was rather odd.” Balin said, though when he didn’t expand on his thoughts Thorin assumed that was the end of his interest in the matter. Or perhaps he was just waiting until after the meal to care. 

There was a reason why Balin was Thorin’s advisor, the king thought as he returned to his bacon. That reason was he knew how to time his battles.

Thorin had never quite learned that lesson.

Almost two hours later, between meetings with representatives from Dale and a visit to the mines, he managed to find Bilbo who had built himself a little nest in one of the plush library chairs, surrounded by quilts and pillows and snacks. He had even managed to make a wall of books, which shouldn’t have been as endearing as it was. 

“You were missed at breakfast.” He said, leaning over Bilbo’s shoulder to inspect his books. While normally he would settle in with volumes about history, poetry, geography, and language, today's subject was flowers. “Is this about that garden you’ve been trying to start? I tell you we can’t get the sunlight needed to properly grow much of anything.” 

“For your information the mushroom garden is doing wonderfully and my project on the East cliff face is flourishing. And this is about something else.” 

Thorin nodded. “Something to do with you dragging our young Frodo from the dining hall?”

“Something to do with that, yes.” 

Thorin simply raised his heavy brow, knowing Bilbo would be well aware of his expression. It was a common enough one that he’d be expecting it. 

“It’s a hobbit thing.” 

“I assumed as much.” 

“It’s a complicated hobbit thing.” 

With a warm laugh Thorin picked up Bilbo, ignoring his squawking, and settling in the chair he’d been occupying before. Despite the blush that was developing on his face Bilbo allowed Thorin to manipulate him on his lap. “Few would think to hunt me down here. We have time.” 

He was wrong. There wasn’t enough time for Bilbo to begin to explain the rituals of a young hobbit leaving the tween years and preparing to come of age. He’d barely gotten into the details regarding appropriate displays of skill and cunning when one of the apprentice scribes found the pair and began insisting that Thorin was needed immediately. He ended up brushing the boy off and returning to Bilbo who managed to begin his description of the importance of flowers in one’s hair when the boy returned, this time looking like he was about to cry. 

Taking pity on the lad the pair ended up following him, Bilbo chattering the whole way. “It’s an announcement. I didn’t realize Frodo had been old enough when we left the Shire to remember the tradition.” 

“What was he announcing?” Thorin asked, half heartedly thumbing through the heavy papers he’d been handed by the stuttering scribe. 

Bilbo made a weak noise. “He tried to make an announcement but he made a quite a number of mistakes with the presentation. He shouldn’t have braided them into his hair, that’s for the end announcement, when the tween is ready to enter adulthood. And he used the wrong flowers for first presentation. I’ve promised to help him before dinner.” 

“I look forward to seeing the final results.” Thorin chuckled, his attention already being demanded on all sides. “I apologize…” 

“No, no, I understand. Have a lovely day.” 

And with that he was off, practically skipping down the halls with his load of books and, if Thorin knew him, a clever plan forming in his brain. 

Thorin could hardly wait for dinner. 

\--

The bundle of flowers tucked behind Frodo’s pointed ear was smaller and simpler during the night meal. From his place further up the table Thorin could identify clover, peony, hollyhock, sweetbrier, and lavender. His curled hair was unbraided, which must have disappointed the young heirs of Erebor if their whining was any indication. Balin, who had probably spent the afternoon studying flowers and their meanings, clapped the boy on his shoulder and offered him a seat so they could discuss the various traditions Frodo would be undertaking. 

This caused plenty whining from the royal brothers who, if Dwalin's grumbling was to be believed, had skipped their lessons to try and hunt down their hobbit friend earlier in the day and were less than thrilled to lose another chance to claim the entirety of his attention. But Balin was trickier than either brother, or even the both combined, and kept the hobbit’s focus.

Bilbo, who unashamedly used the attention on Frodo to slip in silently, settled beside Thorin. His attention was more on the food than his nephew who was doing well under the curiosity of dwarves. 

“Has he redeemed himself?” Thorin asked, making sure to lean other enough that his breath would tickle Bilbo’s ear and cause his face to flush. 

“Oh yes. This is the first announcement. Just introducing himself, his past and his desires for the future. He did well for having so little exposure to the custom.” 

Thorin nodded, though he didn't understand much of what Bilbo was saying. "So he is entering adulthood." 

Bilbo was sharp enough, and had loved Thorin long enough, to catch the wistful tone. "It will be at least a year before he can consider wearing the final announcement." 

The king just huffed. 

"Thorin, he had to grow up eventually." 

"I don't believe that." 

Bilbo just laughed, tugging at Thorin's arm so he'd stop staring angrily at the crowd Frodo had gathered around him. "You didn't grump this much when Fili and Kili reached maturity, did you?" 

He hadn't, really. Mostly because he had been too caught up in thoughts about Erebor and what it would mean to retake the lost kingdom. He'd missed so much of his own nephew's childhood that it stung all the more to realize the boy he considered his own would soon be an adult as well. 

"Frodo is different." He finally admitted when Bilbo wouldn't stop glaring at him. "He was always so much smaller. Perhaps I just thought he would never stop being so small." 

"You really are a sweet heart under all the gruffness." Bilbo teased. He softened the teasing with a kiss and with that it was officially time to turn to more important things. 

Things like dinner. 

\--

The next morning Frodo wore the same small arrangement of flowers, though with more sweetbrier and some larkspur. Even before he could take two steps through the door he was being pulled to sit by Kili, Fili already waiting with a plate full of food and plenty of questions. Thorin, who hadn't been sitting there since first breakfast, no matter what anyone said, watched the playful poking and prodding with an indulgent smile. He could remember so long ago when Bilbo had taken to dragging the brothers to breakfast by their beards. After a few months he simply sent Frodo, who could get both boys to the table with washed faces and clean tunics. 

Actually when he thought about it Bilbo had the same effect on himself, so perhaps it was another form of hobbit magic. 

When it became obvious his nephews weren't going to allow Frodo a breath to eat his food Thorin shooed them off to face Dwalin. The pathetic pout was a bit much for dwarves their age but Thorin regularly dealt with hobbit pouting and would not be moved. 

"You didn't have to do that, Uncle Thorin." Frodo said with a roll of his eyes that made Thorin think of Bilbo. So many of the boy's habits came from his uncle, but where Bilbo made them fussy Frodo made them precious. 

Perhaps even adulthood wouldn't steal that from the boy. 

Settling in Fili's empty spot Thorin stole a bit of bacon from Frodo, who protested appropriately. 

"You haven't asked about my announcement." He said after some playful nudging. When Thorin looked at Frodo he could have sworn he saw the slightest bit of a wobble in his lower lip. 

"Your uncle explained it to me." He reached out to brush aside a leafy green that had fallen out of place. "He didn't explain what they meant. Tell me what you say about yourself." 

Frodo blushed a little but pointed out the appropriate flowers as he explained their meanings. “For simplicity, a good simple joy which I am not ashamed of, and peace, which I find in my home here in the mountain. Here, for bashfulness, which I feel more than I often admit. For devotion, to my family of blood and my family of choosing. Oh, and this is for levity which I am surrounded by in Fili and Kili, and for ambition, which I discovered from uncle Bilbo, and from you.”

He blushed as Thorin inspected each blossom, squirming under the attention. 

"Uncle says I can add more later. I don't need to announce everything at once. I'm thinking next month I'll make a bundle for the rest of the company. They've been my family for so long and Uncle Bilbo says it is kind to mention others when announcing one's self." 

"I am honored you would mention us." He paused. "I am honored you mention me." 

Frodo huffed before sitting up confidently. "You're my family. You and Bilbo. You...you raised me." 

"And it was an honor." 

Before he could stop himself, though he'd never admit that nothing could have stopped him, he pulled Frodo against him, allowing him to rest his head on his chest. He didn't feel much bigger than when he'd first arrived, back when he could catch the running child and scoop him into his arms and hold him for hours on end, but the more rational part of his mind knew Frodo was almost as tall as Bilbo. Perhaps finally taller. But he fit so well in his arms, like he had always been meant to be there. 

"Your uncle and I will never have children of our own, but I have always felt if I were to have a son I would love him as I love you." 

It was perhaps the most sentimental thing he'd said, at least to a conscious audience. If Bilbo knew how much praise he received while he slept he would be mortified. But with Frodo rushing into adulthood Thorin felt he couldn't keep such thoughts to himself. 

When they finally pulled away from one another the dining hall had cleared of everyone but Bombur, who was cleaning a table and humming loudly. It took a moment for Thorin to realize that the master of his kitchens should not be cleaning tables, and another moment for him to wonder how many dwarves Bombur must have bullied out of the room to provide them with privacy. 

He'd have to send him a wheel of cheese from Dale later, as thanks. 

For the rest of the day Thorin performed every task set before him, but his mind lingered with the hobbit lad who was probably being tricked into mischief by Fili and Kili. Perhaps he'd gone to help Ori, as he often did. He showed promise with languages and Thorin often wondered about having him trained among the scribes. It would serve him better than to only be a companion to princes. 

Frodo also inspired affection from everyone he encountered. Perhaps training to be a dignitary of Erebor. It would certainly make trade meetings with Mirkwood go smoother. For as much as elves disliked dwarves they were all fond of hobbits. Once when their relations were still shaky Thorin had caught sight of Frodo napping in King Thranduil's lap while he read over a proposal. He had thought it a trick of a tired mind until months later when the royal family of Mirkwood sent a pony for the boy's birthday. 

Or perhaps he could have Bilbo begin training the lad. Though his official title was “Consort to the King” it really should have been “Peacemaker for the Mountain.” He wasn't sure how Bilbo got his nose into absolutely everything but if there was a dispute in the mountain it was guaranteed Bilbo knew about it and had a solution. When Thorin had commented on it years before Bilbo had shrugged, admitting it was a talent young hobbits learned from having so many relatives. Perhaps Frodo would not have such a developed skill, but it might be worth it to have him trained in peacemaking. 

It was only when afternoon tea was brought in (another diet change brought about by hobbits) that Thorin realized he'd spent the whole day plotting for Frodo's future. 

Oh bother, he really was growing up. 

"Balin." His advisor perked up from his tea almost as though he'd been expecting Thorin to speak. "I am concerned for Frodo's future. I realize I have failed to consider what he would do within the mountain. He has no trade, nor apprenticeship. I worry for him." 

Balin chuckled warmly at his old friend. "Frodo will continue to do what he has always done. Everyone loves him here, and there's no need for him to find work. Not while he has the whole of the royal family wrapped around his finger." 

"A fair point. But someday Bilbo and I will be gone. I must ensure someone is there to care for him. I do not worry for Fili like this. He has the crown to prepare for. And even Kili has his position by his brother's side. But Frodo is not of our blood." 

"You've always cared for Bilbo, and so too will Frodo be cared for." Balin said, ever wise in such manners. 

Unfortunately while Thorin had his own wisdom, it ran just off compared to Balin. 

"Yes. I see now. I must find a suitor who will care for Frodo." 

Balin sighed. "Not quite what I meant, lad."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus begins Thorin's mental breakdown over his youngest child finally growing up. While most of the flower meanings will be coming from books or wikipedia some may get made up meanings as the plot demands. Obviously hobbits just have a different language for their flowers. Obviously. Also, as you may notice with the relationship tag, both Frodo/Legolas and Fili/Frodo/Kili will be making appearances. That being said I'm not 100% sure what the end game will be. Yet. Frodo may just fall in love with a random original character. (haha, no. Not that.)


	3. Cornflower and Wheat

They didn't pounce on him until tea. That was a surprise. Mostly because he'd been expecting them hours before. 

Bilbo had just settled in the plush chair he'd claimed years earlier when they made their attack. And it was most certainly his chair. He’d gone through such trouble with it, having gone so far as to force poor Ori to make him a sign that said, in five languages, that the chair belonged to the Consort to the King and please don’t sit in it thank you kindly. The sign was no longer needed, in fact it no longer existed after having been stolen as part of game hunting that extended through the whole of the kingdom. Anymore Bilbo considered making a new sign. One which would inform anyone passing by to leave the hobbit in the chair alone. 

Not, of course, that it would ever be obeyed. 

As it was he'd managed all of one sip of tea before the brothers Fili and Kili pounced. Quite literally. Only Fili's quick reflexes kept the trio from being covered in tea. 

"So good to find you unoccupied, Uncle Bilbo." Fili said, all charming smiles and quirked eyebrows. 

"I was having tea. How is that not being occupied?" 

Kili shrugged, careless of the cup he'd been handed and likely to spill the liquid that had just been saved. "Not very occupied." 

"We were wondering-"

"-innocently wondering-"

"-if you could tell us more about this hobbit flower business. Uncle's locked up in meetings and Balin's with him." 

"Also they wouldn't tell us when we last asked and it's unlikely they'll tell us this time." Kili added. 

Bilbo didn't roll his eyes, but only just barely. "It's a rite of passage into adulthood. A sign he is no longer a fauntling and he'll be reaching majority. And he's doing a lovely job of it so don't go teasing him for it." 

The pair managed their best agonized expression. 

"Would we ever?" 

"Not our dear Frodo!" 

"You shame us." 

Bilbo actually did roll his eyes at that. "Yes, I suppose I do. Don't the pair of you have someone else to bother?" 

"We've got the day off." Kili announced. Even with the sparse beard he looked the perfect image of a school boy who'd found out his teacher was ill. It was the kind of face Bilbo would have made years before when he'd been free to explore the fields and woods. That did not bode well.

Fili was no better with his glee. "We were thinking of leaving the mountain for a bit. Head down to Dale. Maybe stop by the market." 

The pair began sharing one of their _looks_. The kind that made their uncles squirm and their mother prepare her sternest voice. Bilbo expected just about anything to follow such a look. He expected pranks, which had gotten rarer as the years passed, or teasing, which had gotten more common. 

Instead the look was followed by questions. 

Questions about flowers. 

How refreshingly unexpected. 

\--

Just because Frodo had nothing he needed to do didn't mean he lacked for things to do. There was always something to do in a mountain like Erebor. He had standing invitations from all members of the Company should he need companionship, or even a task to keep his feet busy. When he had first arrived he’d taken to helping Bifur run his toy shop, gushing to anyone who’d listen about how amazing the toys were. Later he’d taken to spending time with Bombur in the kitchens for the important job of taste testing. Anymore he would mostly visit with the Brothers Ri, and only then the older and younger brother. Not that Nori wasn't fun, but sometimes he was too much fun. 

Being chased by guards simply to invoke nostalgia was not an ideal afternoon no matter what he said. 

Luckily Nori was nowhere to be seen when Frodo arrived at Dori's little shop. In fact no one was to be seen, which was quite shocking. 

The shop, which had no proper name only because no matter what Dori called it Nori would manage to turn it into something filthy, didn't have a real purpose. In fact anymore it was less of a shop and more of a place for Dori to keep breakable items which he wanted to show off. He sold tea and honey cakes and little trinkets but none of the fancier items he'd accumulated in his life. And if a customer, for whatever odd reason, actually tried to make a purchase Dori would distract them with cake and tea and questions about their day. 

It was all quite shady.

But Frodo liked the shop and liked the dwarves usually found there. Unfortunately he wasn't finding much of anyone. Not in the main area, which was full of plush chairs and heavy rugs, nor in the back room where Dori kept his supply of tea and a smaller supply of wine. He was just about to go up the back stairs and see if anyone was in the house proper when a loud banging sounded, quickly followed by heavy footsteps. 

A lot of heavy footsteps. 

Frodo had all of five seconds to duck back against the wall, curling his toes so not to have them crushed by sturdy boots worn by sturdy dwarves. The rushing crowd passed him in a wave before eight dwarves stopped and turned as one entity. 

"FRODO!" 

Oh dear. 

They were on him instantly, strong hands gripping for him, each trying to keep hold of him long enough to, well, do something. He wasn't quite sure what. They weren’t hugging him, which was their normal game. Nor were they playing keep away from one another, a game that had been quickly stomped out by an irritated Consort to the King. 

No, they were inspecting him. 

"They said you were wearing flowers now. Can't believe it." 

"I think they're pretty." 

"Course you do, stupid." 

"You're stupid. And besides, no flowers in Middle Earth would distract from your ugly face." 

"Who you calling ugly?" 

"Calling you ugly! Oh Frodo, look at how they bring out your eyes. You've got wonderful eyes." 

"Think some opal would look good with his eyes. Better than stupid flowers." 

"They ain't stupid!" 

"Stupid!" 

"Aw, now you got the baby saying it. Da's not going to be happy." 

"No, Da is not happy." An irritated voice sounded from the doorway where the crowd had come from, quickly followed by a huff, as if to emphasize the irritation. "This is not how young dwarrows greet guests."

The group pulled away, save one tiny baby who was stubbornly clinging to Frodo's foot. He lifted the little one up, settling her on his hip as the others muttered their apologies. Just as quickly as they arrived most took off, back to their masters and their work. 

It seemed as though Frodo had arrived at the end of lunch. 

With a baby on his hip and two smaller children pulling at his trousers in an attempt at gaining his attention even walking was a challenge. But Frodo had spent plenty of time with Dori's brood, in fact he’d known more than half since his first arrival in the mountains, and he knew how to maneuver even the most stubborn of them. With Dori clicking his tongue behind them the group managed to get back downstairs where the two who could walk by themselves rushed off to rough house out of their father's line of sight. 

"You know, Frodo, you have excellent timing. I have some things I need to pick up from Dale and I don't have anyone to watch the children. Could I perhaps purchase your afternoon?" Dori spared a glance at the older two, possibly calculating how much they would cost him. "I think they'd calm down after a nice walk around the mountain." 

Frodo knew from experience that they wouldn't but he liked Dori's children and had been looking for something to do. 

"Would you be alright with us going to the field outside the gates? Gwili likes it there." 

Her attention had been summoned and the baby began gurling excitedly, trying to pull at Frodo's curls to impart some kind of message. She only managed to grab a chubby handful of the greenery that decorated his announcement flowers, which she promptly tried to eat. 

Dori ended up walking them to the gates, taking his time with goodbyes before handing them a basket with treats and heading on his way. The older of the children lead their group to the field, insisting the others march behind her like soldiers, save Gwili who could neither walk nor march. Kian seemed to think that as soon as her older siblings were away she needed to take charge, or else no one would. Frodo didn't mind, because she'd ultimately give in to his instructions, while pouting and saying they'd been her own ideas. Lunn was far more relaxed about the whole ordeal, experience in dealing with older siblings giving orders. He had also long ago mastered the art of not caring.

Really if he had to pick any of the eight to watch over they would be the ones he'd pick. They were wonderfully calm in comparison to the rest. 

"Frodo! Frodo! I found wild flowers!" 

She had found a lovely gathering cornflower, all bright blue and early in their blooming. Frodo made sure to praise the find, praise which Kian preened under. 

"Frodo says I did good." She bragged to her brother who was more interested in pulling up grass than in flowers. "And he knows cause hobbits know flowers. That's why the grow them." 

Frodo, who was having no luck at getting Gwili to let go of her death grip on his shirt, settled amongst the grass hoping she’d crawl off to investigate. The sudden invasion of grass into her personal space was soon forgiven, and Frodo's shirt forgotten. Grass, Gwili soon learned, was far more fun to eat than clothing. 

"Frodo, why you growing flowers in yer hair anyway?" Lunn asked. 

"I'm not growing them, I'm wearing them." 

"Oengus says hobbits grow flowers in their hair." Lunn said solemnly. Out of all his siblings Lunn respected Oengus the most, which Frodo had never understood. It wasn't that Oengus wasn't a fine young dwarf. He was just rather gullible, and seemed determined to pass that trait on to others. 

Kian, however, took after her older sister and where Oengus was gullible Arrel was self assured. And based on tone of the two children it was rather obvious their argument was a mimicry of an earlier disagreement. 

"Don't you bother reading a book never? Hobbits are just like dwarves. No growing nothing in their hair." 

"Dwarves can grow moss in their hair if they don't take no baths." 

"So why don't you have no moss in your hair, you bog." 

"You're the bog!" 

"Children!" Frodo sighed, suddenly glad he was an only child. "Hobbits do not grow anything from their heads but hair. Oengus was probably listening to Fili and Kili, which was his first mistake." 

That seemed to calm the pair, at least a little, and allowed Frodo to turn his attention back on Gwili who was shoving her cheeks full of grass and dirt like a little rodent. The first time Frodo had seen the dwarf baby attempt such a feat he'd almost fainted. But if there was a key difference between hobbit babies and dwarf babies it was dwarf babies knew when enough was enough. 

And, as though reading his thoughts, Gwili made a great show of spitting out the mess, getting most of it in the fuzz on her cheeks. 

"Dwarf babies are made of sturdier things than hobbits." Frodo muttered, quoting Dori who said as much quite often. 

Kian plopped down beside him suddenly, brushing her fingers through the fine wisps of hair developing on her chin. He could see she'd tried braiding some of them earlier, but they weren't enough to hold even the smallest of braids for long. "Arrel says flowers means you're an adult now. Does that mean you're gonna get married and have babies?" 

Frodo snorted despite himself. Arrel had probably said much harsher things than that. Despite Arrel being older she and her twin brother were still at the beginning of their apprenticeship, years from anything resembling adulthood. He doubted she would be thrilled that the smooth cheek hobbit was going to be reaching majority before her. 

"I only just made my first announcement. It's going to be a while before I'm considered an adult." 

Kian nodded, then frowned. "But you're going to have babies right? Cause you're good with kids. Da says so all the time. Look at Gwili. She loves you. Lunn did too, when he was a baby. He still kind of is." 

"Am not!" Lunn huffed from where he was digging a hole with a stick. 

"I doubt I'll find anyone who wants to have babies with me in this mountain. Maybe I'll adopt." He thought of Bilbo, who had adopted him when he was so desperately in need. 

"Yeah, that'd be good. But not any of us. We're spoken for." 

She looked so somber that for a moment Frodo forgot how she'd come to live with Dori. How all of them had come to be Dori's children. "You know there's nothing wrong with being adopted, right?" 

"Course I know, stupid. Weren't for Da and all of us would be alone. Or dead, maybe." She glanced over at Lunn who was too dedicated to the developing hole in the dirt to eavesdrop. "We’re lucky. I mean, some of them may be stupid, but they're still mine. And you're Bilbo's. Still, you’d make cute little hobbit babies if you ever wanted." 

He caught her in a hug, ignoring how strange it was that she was older than him, smaller than him, and a little bit wiser than him. "Don't let Dori hear you calling your siblings stupid." 

"Stupid!" 

"Aw, Gwili no." Kian sighed, rolling on her stomach so she could play in the grass with the baby. 

With the children occupied Frodo moved back to the wildflowers that had lead them to that spot. The blue of the petals was brilliant, but perhaps a little much for behind his ear. Besides, it would be highly inappropriate to add cornflower to his bundle. 

As he picked the flowers, chaining them together to make a crown for the children, he failed to notice the approaching figures. He wouldn't have noticed anything if not for the shrill scream from behind him. 

He turned quickly but it was too late. Heavy arms grabbed hold of him and thick fabric pushed against his face. He could barely breath, could barely move, but still he tried to pull back. When that didn’t work he went for his surest attack. 

One flailing hand managed to find a braid and with a mighty tug he was free. 

"Ow, ow, ow!" 

"Serves you right for grabbing me like that." Frodo grumped, jumping up so he could glare down at his attacker. His attacker who was nursing the braid as though it would die from the assault. "Grab me again I'll we'll see if I don't yank your braids right from your head." 

The crowned prince of Erebor gasped as the statement, falling back with a cry of anguish. "Fili! Did you hear what he said?" 

The heir to the throne was too busy tossing Gwili in the air while her siblings crowded around him to comfort his brother. Luckily for the fallen dwarf Frodo was feeling merciful and helped him back to his feet, checking to make sure he hadn't done any real damage to the braid. 

Dwarves were so particular about their hair. 

"I can't believe you'd attack me like that. Especially after I've gone and got you a present." Kili pouted.

"We got you a present!" Fili called, still focused on the children. 

"Yes, we." 

Frodo didn't huff or roll his eyes but it was certainly a temptation. He did manage an amused smile. "Go on then, what is it." 

It was honeysuckle and wheat. 

The honeysuckle he understood. He could assume his uncle had a hand in it, as the brothers were more likely to know what the Elvenking of Mirkwood wanted for his birthday than to know the language of the flowers. Still, the sentiment behind the flowers seemed like something Kili and Fili would like. But the wheat?

His confusion must have shown because Kili was quick to explain. "It's for wealth. And prosperity. Least that's what Bilbo said. And we were thinking of making you something with quartz, yellow to be precise, and wheat seemed about the same but all...hobbit like." 

He shrugged weakly near the end, looking almost ashamed. Behind him Frodo could see Fili, obviously listening in while distracting Kian and Lunn. 

"Thank you, Kili. I really do like it. Maybe I can work it into my next bundle of flowers. And thank you Fili." He called out, pleased to see him grin wildly at the thanks. Frodo lifted the wheat higher, inspecting the color. It would look nice for autumn. Perhaps Bilbo could find a way to keep them until then.

Kili had taken that time to pick up the cornflower chain, dropping the half finished thing onto Frodo's hair. "What's this one?" 

"Cornflower. Boys in the Shire wear them to announce they're in love. They say if the flower withers early it's a sign the love isn't returned." He lifted the chain off his head, tying it around his gift of honeysuckle and wheat. "It looks good together. The wheat and the cornflower." 

"It looked good in your hair. Same color as your eyes." 

Before Frodo could respond, or so much as think of a response, Kili had run off to steal Gwili from his brother and was soon leading the others in a game of chase. Kian and Lunn fought valiantly to reclaim their stolen sister, failing when the devious brothers gently tossed her back and forth, keeping her just out of their reach. Frodo just sat among the tall grass, laughing at their antics and holding his gift close to his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay pretty much filler chapter! Unfortunately I love the Brothers Ri and I have a strong appreciation for Dori being a huge mother hen. I had a one shot idea that would focus on him adopting orphans from the Battle of the Five Armies and those children ended up NEEDING to make an appearance in something I wrote, as the one shot probably never going to be finished. The first five are orphans from the battle, and the other three came later (hence the age difference with Kian, Lunn and Gwili). I like the idea of them being close to Frodo because he's also adopted, and adorable. Also they may make another appearance at some point, and a few are certainly old enough to get mixed up in Thorin's mad scheming. (For anyone curious they're Tin, Gawen, Arrel, Orrue, Oengus, Kian, Lunn and Gwili)


	4. Azalea

Thorin Oakenshield had been behaving strangely. At least strange enough that Frodo was beginning to notice. He never claimed to be an expert on the behavior of dwarves, even if he had lived with them for the majority of his life, but even he could tell when something odd was about. 

Sometimes it would just be little strange things, like his watchful stare whenever Frodo was about, no matter if he was just reading a book at the dinner table or saying hello to a passing dwarf. Or a furrow to his brow when a passing dwarf so much as said hello to him. Sometimes he would linger at the end of second breakfast, staring off into space before snapping back, as though to make sure Frodo hadn't disappeared while he'd been thinking. 

He went so far as to ask Bilbo about it, but the older hobbit was less than concerned. 

"Never ask me to explain the behavior of dwarves, my boy.” He’d said, leaving it at that. 

And almost two weeks later second breakfast was yet again being disturbed by strangeness. This time it was sharp whispers between the king and his most trusted advisor before finally Thorin turned to Frodo with an almost forced smile. 

"Frodo, if you don't have plans already I was hoping you'd accompany me in my visit to the market." 

Like the kings of old Thorin made an effort to visit with his people, though unlike his father and grandfather before him Thorin would never announce his visits. He liked arriving on a day like any other, watching his people as though he were still a commoner instead of their king. Not that he went unnoticed long, especially if accompanied by either of his hobbits. 

But, having no other plans and having missed spending time with his adopted uncle, Frodo agreed. He even allowed Thorin to carry him on his shoulder for the first few streets, an act that was mostly to show off that he still could carry a growing hobbit. The last time he'd made such a show of strength it had been to Dwalin, who'd risen to the challenge and carried both Thorin and Frodo to their destination. 

Hardly dignified for a king.

The market was slowly filling, mostly with dwarves though the odd human could be spotted in the crowd. The artisans market only opened twice a week and the wares found among the stalls could not be found in the common markets of Dale. It was no wonder the normally claustrophobic humans risked a visit to the mountain for such hard to find splendor. There were two kinds of markets in Erebor, both existing in the same space. During all but two days a week the market was for food and services, not as bountiful as the markets in Dale but still enough for those who couldn’t manage the day trip out of the mountain. But the artisans market was something else entirely. 

As a child Frodo had scurried from stall to stall, amazed by the wondrous jewels and fabrics and metal work. Some of his earlier memories in Erebor were of riding on Kili's shoulder while he and Fili made small talk with their subjects and all the while he'd catch his fingers in Kili's hair, childish excitement replacing politeness. He had even made his first coin drumming up attention for a merchant who's voice had given out with cold.

So early in the day it was mostly the apprentices running around, setting up their stands while their masters chatted with one another. The masters wouldn't try pushing too many of their own wares so early. No, this was the hour for the apprentices to show their own work. The pieces were a little less fine, and had the odd roughness, but Frodo found he sometimes liked the work of the apprentices more for their short comings. 

Where most mornings Thorin would amble down the path this day he seemed on a mission. He only offered the shortest responses to greetings, making his way to Hawen the jeweler’s stand. 

"Hawen! You look well today!" Thorin greeted with more enthusiasm than Frodo would have expected from him. 

"Well as can be." The jeweler replied as she began cleaning a space on her display table. "Ye said ye'd be another few days, but it’s ready. I was gonna send it up with the girl. Good fine piece. Came together easy." 

Her apprentice, and daughter if Frodo remembered correctly, hurried forward with a piece of jewelry wrapped in cloth, which Hawen carefully unwrapped. It looked like a bracelet, though not like one he'd ever seen before. It was a little too big, but otherwise gorgeous, with gold wrapping like autumn ivy and metal flowers inlaid with all manner of precious gem. He could recognize many of the flowers, but one seemed to appear more than others. 

"Is that larkspur?" He asked, finger hovering just over one of the metal blooms. Deep purple gems gleamed under the torch light, too shiny to be mistaken for a real flower but otherwise perfect in shape. 

"Your uncle wore larkspur in his first and last announcement. I thought it would be a fitting piece. What do you think of it?" 

Frodo hesitated, as he'd been taught to when inspecting someone's work. He let his eyes search for flaws while still admiring the work. "The flowers are incredible. Almost like living flowers. Uncle Bilbo will like that. But it seems a little big for the wrist." 

Hawen chortled. "It's for the ankle, little one. A clever gift, to be sure." 

"Oh." Frodo reconsidered the piece. "Then it's wonderful. He'll love it." 

Thorin nodded, first at Frodo then at Hawen. "The payment is all in order?" 

"Aye, your majesty. Just need to do a final shine and it'll be ready. Olwen!" 

In a moment the apprentice was back, gathering up the piece carefully and taking it to the back of the stall. While she scurried away Thorin lifted a heavy, thoughtful brow. 

"She's almost done with her training, isn't she?" 

"Another week or so. But she'll have lots to do after. There's been a rush of orders fer flowery things." Hawen pulled at one of her own braids and Frodo noticed for the first time she was wearing a little charm shaped like a lily. "Lots of orders. Gotta thank yer hobbits fer that." 

Thorin clapped Frodo on the shoulder while he pondered on if that was a compliment or not. As he opened his mouth to speak a shout sounded behind them and soon they were being cornered by Balin and a few guards. Poor Balin was mostly out of breath, but he held together remarkably well, most likely so none of the guards would tattle to his brother. He used his bow to Thorin to regain his breath and when he stood again it was hard to notice he'd been gasping for air at all. 

"Your majesty, we have a bit of a situation that you must deal with." He noticed Frodo and offered another bow. "Sorry to interrupt, lad." 

For once Thorin didn't seem bothered with being called away. In fact he looked a little pleased. "Frodo, could you stay with Hawen and bring the piece with you when it's finished? I'm sure Olwen would be able to escort you back to the royal suites." He turned to Hawen who was nodding. Most likely anything to get the guards to move away from her stall. 

"I don't need an escort, Uncle Thorin." Frodo pouted but was quick to give in. Better to be escorted by Olwen than some guards. 

Thorin didn't seem to mind the pouting, or he was just use to it, and with a kiss to Frodo's forehead he, Balin, and the guards were gone. Hawen didn't stay for more than a moment longer, already spotting a potential customer who'd been lured her way by the commotion that often came with kings and guards. Which just left Frodo and the jewels on display. 

Hawen did have a lot of flower charms on display, most of them less detailed than her normal wares. But he could identify most of them, save one that may have started as something else before becoming a flower. A horse, perhaps. 

He was so engrossed in the charms that he didn't notice Olwen moving to stand beside him, offering the packaged ankle bracelet to him. He did notice when she cleared her throat, startling him so badly he almost fell into the display table. 

At least she was polite enough to not laugh too loudly. 

"Sorry, little master. Didn't realize you were so engrossed with the charms." 

"Well, they are lovely." He defended as he began fidgeting with the bundle of flowers behind his ear. "Perhaps I could commission some for my final announcement." 

"I'm not saying it's just cause of you hobbits, but we wouldn't be making so many flowers if it weren't for your bouquet. Heard it's coming of age junk." She leaned close, peering at the sweetbrier, as though trying to figure out how to recreate the flower with metal. "Know a couple of lasses who want the charms for their beards when they finish their apprenticeship." 

Frodo eyed her beard, which was slightly sparse and not nearly as impressive as her sideburns which were pleated with copper wire and tiny gems. Unconsciously he began stroking his own chin, still bare and likely to stay that way. 

"Jealous, little master?" Olwen asked with a wide smirk. 

"I don't think that's the right word for it. But I'll have to look into getting some of your flower charms, even if not for my beard." 

Olwen laughed, the same hearty laugh her mother had, and patted him firmly on the shoulder. "Well, shall we be getting you back home safely? Any excuse to get away from the market for a few minutes." 

She was already shepherding him down the path before he could yell his thanks to her mother. As they traveled through the market many apprentices called out to her, most teasing that she'd need to get back to work before Hawen caught her. She responded with a few less than polite gestures, the kind Bilbo would be upset over if he knew Frodo recognized them. 

"Sorry about all that." Olwen said as they escaped the noise of the market, traveling up the main path further into the mountain. 

"Sorry about what?" 

"All that...rudeness. I suppose." 

He tried for the skeptical expression Bilbo had long ago mastered but he ended up looking confused. "I don't mind. I'm not, I mean, I don't know what you all think of me but I'm not some delicate prince." 

"Still not proper of me, little master." 

"I don't care, really. And you can always call me Frodo." 

She grinned wildly at him. "Maybe I just like that you're smaller than me. Not the tallest lass around. My baby sister's almost taller than me. Shameful." 

"Try being a hobbit in a dwarf mountain." He grumbled, earning another strong slap on the shoulder. He fought the urge to rub at the now sore spot and very nearly lost. While he hadn't lived among hobbit too long he knew their affection wasn't as physical as dwarves could be. Maybe it was a good thing they thought him to be delicate and weak. Probably saved him a few bruises. 

The pair ended up traveling the long way, chatting all the while about the market, and Olwen's apprenticeship, and her hopes for life after being declared an adult in the eyes of her people. But when the same questions were turned to Frodo he found himself lacking an answer. 

"I suppose I haven't given it much thought. I could have held off my announcement but it just felt right. Uncle Bilbo says it's like that for hobbits. Thought it's not as impressive as what dwarves do before their majority." 

Olwen shrugged, tossing one of her braids behind her shoulder casually. "It’s expected. Besides, we dwarves are called to our crafts, more than we are to things like marriage and whatever else coming of age may mean for you hobbits. But doesn’t matter if you don’t have crafts that call to you. You have other things." 

"That's very kind of you to say." 

"Kind nothing. It's the truth." She paused to gesture down a hall they were walking by, one leading to the royal libraries. "My sister's calling was to the written word and she excels at that. I won't judge her happiness. You've got nature calling to you. Won't judge that neither." 

Frodo found himself reaching up to touch his flowers, adjusting the way they sat behind his ear and blushing all the while. 

"Hey, there's an idea! I should go pester Fawen. You wanna come with?" 

"Oh. I guess so." And before he had a chance to so much as blink he was being dragged down the hallway, Olwen chattering a mile a minute about her sister's attempts at teaching her more than the most basic of runes and how long that had lasted. 

And behind them a lone dwarf nodded, pleased with what he'd be able to report back to his king. 

\--

Thorin Oakenshield had been behaving strangely. 

Well, stranger than usual. 

It wasn't that Bilbo didn't trust his husband. They were years away from the unpleasant strangeness that came with gold sickness and banishments. They were even months away from the strangeness that came with the gray that was beginning to sneak its way into Bilbo's hair. But Bilbo had spent years by Thorin's side and that was certainly long enough for him to tell when something odd was going on. 

And while normally he would just ignore any strangeness that wasn’t directly causing problems, this was beginning to unnerve Frodo. So, as it was probably long overdue, Bilbo was going to have words with Thorin. 

It would have helped if Thorin was polite enough to be in the right place at the right time. As it was Bilbo was left wandering the halls, asking any passing maid or guard if they knew where his husband had gotten off to. By the time lunch had passed there was still no sign of him. 

If Bombur wasn't such an excellent cook and a kind enough friend to let Bilbo make camp in the kitchens he'd have become very cross with how the day was turning out. 

Eventually he managed to find a maid who'd seen the king passing by and could point him in the right direction. Unfortunately that right direction was two corridors down and across another hallway and by the time he caught sight of the king, who was too busy speaking in low excited tones with another dwarf to notice his approach, Bilbo was very much put out. 

As put out as he was Bilbo was still a hobbit, and a sneaky one at that, which allowed for him to be practically beside the king before either dwarf noticed his presence. Which allowed him to catch a good portion of the whispering. 

"Why are you spying on my nephew, Thorin Oakenshield?" 

Thorin, impressively enough, did not scream at the appearance of a hobbit at his shoulder. Though only barely. He managed to retain his dignity long enough to shoo the spy, one of Nori's most likely. As soon as the dwarf was out of sight Thorin allowed his body to sag a little. 

"Still the burglar you ever were." He said fondly. 

"Flattery does not distract me. Why are you having someone spy on Frodo? And who was he talking about? This Olwen?" 

"Olwen, daughter of Hawen. The jewelry maker. She made some of the pieces you refuse to wear." 

Bilbo rolled his eyes at the obvious attempt at changing the subject. "You're spying on our nephew. Why?" 

Thorin huffed a little, groaned a little, and finally just sighed. "I...may have asked Olwen to escort Frodo back to the royal suites to see how he'd get along with a well off dwarf about to reach her adulthood." 

The silence stretched on far longer than he'd expected it to, and when Bilbo finally opened his mouth it was to make a slightly strangled noise. "You're playing matchmaker with Frodo?" 

"If you must word it so-" 

"I must if it's true!" 

"I'm not wanting them to marry! Yet. I want to see if he gets on well with a dwarf near his, well not age but maturity. And Olwen is from a good family. Or even her sister, who is more similar to our Frodo in terms of personality. Or perhaps a child of the Iron Hills." 

Bilbo groaned, not at all dramatically given the situation. "You're already making a horrible little list full of people to marry Frodo off to, aren't you?" 

"Never." Thorin huffed.

Bilbo glared his strongest glare. 

"More of a list of those who would even be worthy of Frodo's time. He's far too precious to just be married off to a passing lord's daughter." Thorin snorted as though that was obvious.

He was tempted, oh so tempted, to ask if Thorin was serious but he'd seen that look before. He knew what kind of madness was going on in Thorin's head. There would be no stopping, just stalling. "No marriages. No suitors. You can make your silly list but if I hear word of him getting called to go walking or whatever nonsense you dwarves do when you're courting I will be very cross. He still has time before his next announcement and you will respect that." 

Thorin's body sagged a little more, but he nodded. It was probably more leeway that he'd originally expected from his lover. 

For his pouting he received a fond kiss on the nose from an amused hobbit. "You're lucky I love you so, Thorin."

"And I love you, my burglar." 

"I'm still cross you were spying on our nephew." He glanced around, noticing they were alone with only one hallway separating them from their rooms. "But not so cross I won't encourage you to sneak away from your duties as king so you may perform your duties as husband."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatever happened to a five chapter story? Yes, Thorin's started his trickery and next chapter Fili and Kili get to learn about their uncle's plans for Frodo. And, gods of writing willing, we should be getting appearances from our neighborhood elves soon. Thank you as always for all the lovely comments and the kudos. It makes for a happy author beast.


	5. Gardenia

It was no wonder that an easy friendship had formed between Dori and Bilbo Baggins. On the road to reclaim Erebor they had bonded over the gentle things, those that were typically brushed aside by the other company members. They would sit by the fires at night, Dori mending whatever clothes Nori managed to rip up while Bilbo reinforced the buttons on his abused jacket and all the while they would chat about tea and manners and what was and was not considered acceptable gossip in the Blue Mountains verses the Shire. By the time they reached the Lonely Mountain Bilbo knew as much about Dori’s neighbors as he did his own. 

Even after the return to Erebor Bilbo still managed time for Dori and Ori, though rarely middle brother Nori if only because he spent so little time with his brothers as it was. The hobbit would make a spot in his schedule for tea, either in Dori’s shop or in his own apartment in the royal wing. So the sight of Bilbo, consort to the King, having tea with Dori was not that odd. 

For his husband to be the one accepting a cup of cinnamon and orange blend, that was slightly odd. 

Hunched up on the short chair normally reserved for Bilbo and still wearing his court armor, Thorin certainly looked out of place. And ever so slightly uncomfortable. 

Dori put the blame on his youngest dwarrow who was trying her hardest to eat one of the beads braided into Thorin’s beard. 

“Oh, I can get one of the older ones to take her.” Dori said off handedly as he prepared his own cup. 

But Thorin just grunted, allowing Gwili to gnaw on the fistful of beard she’d managed to catch. “Kili was fond of such things when he was a babe.” 

“The little ones have their fancies, don’t they, your majesty?” 

“Dori, please, I’ve finally managed to stop Ori from calling me that. Not you too.” 

Dori blushed charmingly as he settled in his own chair. “So sorry, Thorin. Habit, you understand. But please, if she gets too much let me call one of the others.” 

Thorin managed all of a mouthful of tea before Gwili started reaching for the cup. He set the cup aside with a slightly relieved smile. “How are the older ones? I don’t believe we’ve managed a proper conversation since Tin began his apprenticeship.” 

“Oh, they all do well. Tin especially is pleased with his glass work. I believe he plans on using his skills to help restore the windows that use to line the southern slope. Gawen may end up joining him when he finishes his apprenticeship.” 

The King nodded, though only slightly as Gwili was still holding his beard captive. “Silver work upon the glass would be stunning. How long do you guess until they would be ready?” 

“Another few months, at least. Tin will be finished before Gawen but they wouldn’t want to start until they’re both finish.” Dori said, pleased grin crossing his face. “Now, why don’t you tell me why you’re poking around at my dwarrows?” 

Thorin kept a straight face at the question. “You are a member of my company. Wouldn’t I wonder about your children?” 

“Bilbo told me about your plans for Frodo.” 

Thorin’s head bowed ever so slightly in defeat. 

“I’m sorry, Thorin, but none of mine are ready to consider courting, even if it’d be to one of yours.” 

“Of course, I understand.” 

Dori smiled with a soft, almost relieved sigh. “I’m glad. And since we have reached an understanding, could you stop having Tin and Gawen followed?” 

“They weren’t being followed. Necessarily.” 

“You do remember my brother is your spy master, correct?” 

Thorin finally did look ashamed. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to not mention this to Bilbo?” 

“I imagine he’s known about this longer than even Nori. You’ll have some explaining to do.” 

“Of course.” Thorin muttered while Gwili ripped a small chunk of hair from his chin. 

\--

Just outside the boundaries of Dale, fertilized by dragon ash and growing wild, was a field. It lay to the East of the city and belonged to neither Dale nor Erebor. The grass could reach well over a hobbit’s head at places which was why Frodo was not allowed to go exploring the fields by himself. Though perhaps “not allowed” wasn’t the proper word for it. “Could never get out of the mountain without being followed” was a better explanation. It would certainly explain why Kili was just a few paces back, occasionally entertaining himself by throwing tiny acorns at Frodo’s back. 

“How is it you’re so much older than me and so much more of a child?” Frodo asked when they settled at the edge of the field, where the grass was still short enough that Frodo wouldn’t be lost just by kneeling. 

“Luck, I suppose.” Kili said with a cheeky grin. 

Before his first announcement Frodo would only wander to the field to gather herbs for Oin or for a lesson with Bilbo. But with his next announcement looming he had been making more and more trips further from the mountain to gather rarer blooms. Usually these trips would be with Bilbo who had long ago mastered the art of making helpful suggestions over just telling Frodo how to do something. He would putter about, pointing out this bloom over that bloom, all the while recounting stories of his own announcement or about the flowers Frodo’s mother had used when she had come of age. 

“Your father wasn’t much for flowers.” Bilbo had said while they were braiding long grass stems together into makeshift rope. “There was a fashion when he came of age to just grab any wild bloom on the side of the road and wear a single flower behind the ear each day. Farm boys liked that thing. But then once at a party your mother mentioned that she liked gardenia and the very next day your father had a proper announcement with nothing but gardenia.” 

Frodo had tried finding gardenia after hearing that story but even the humans in Dale hadn’t been able to help him, so he had gathered rue and wormwood for his second proper announcement. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Bilbo and Thorin, and it wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy his life in the mountain, but sometimes he would find himself humming one of his mother’s lullabies and he would find himself missing them all over again. Bilbo said that was normal, that even so many years later he still missed his own parents, and they would stay up by the fire sharing stories whenever such sorrow hit him. 

Besides, everyone seemed to appreciate his memorial to his parents, and while it had been unintentional he had yet again caused a change in the behavior of dwarrows. Olwen, who really was sweet once she realized she was much too strong to be slapping him over the shoulder as a greeting, had told him that more orders were coming in for charms to honor the dead, all in shapes like the flowers Frodo wore. She had even given him one, blushing straight to her sideburns when she did. He had weaved the metal in with his flowers that same day, even if it caused no end of trouble with Fili and Kili. 

Apparently receiving presents from a girl was always grounds to be teased by those two. 

Frodo gave the younger brother a suspicious glare when he realized he’d gone a full five minutes without being a pest. Kili, who must have gotten bored without Frodo responding to him, had made a pillow out of the tall grass and was watching the clouds with a strange intensity. He would have commented but he knew the peace would be short and if he wanted to get anything done he needed to be quick. 

‘Not that he isn’t great fun to be around.’ Frodo thought as he pulled up some sweet pea that had been mostly hidden by the tall grass. Both of the brothers were and Frodo didn’t like to imagine what his life would have been like without them in it. He had once worried about such a thing. Back when lords from the Iron Hills would make regular appearances with their finely bearded daughters. 

It had been years after his arrival that he finally realized his playmates were both preparing for a life of royal duties and eventual marriages. He had tried his hardest to pull away from them, hiding in the library where they so rarely thought to look. It was a sacrifice that Bilbo had instantly recognized and it only took a quick box of the ears to send him apologizing to the princes. 

It was good that Bilbo had intervened. Frodo could still remember how upset the pair had looked when he admitted he had been hiding from them.

But despite so many years without the worry of duties, for Thorin was the first to admit that Fili wasn’t ready for the throne, or of marriage, Frodo knew eventually they would have other things to occupy their time than a little hobbit. 

Maybe that was why they spent so much time pestering him now. 

The thought came only moments before he heard the call of his name and felt the tug of strong arms pulling him back against a solid chest. Blond hair created a curtain over his vision and he sighed as loudly as he could manage in hopes that Fili would understand that he was not a child to be grabbed at. 

Unlikely. 

“And what has our tiny burglar found?” The future king and current bother asked, one of the braids in his moustache ticking against Frodo’s ear. 

“I’m not a burglar. And I’m not tiny!” 

“Course you are. If Bilbo is Uncle’s burglar that makes you our burglar. And you are rather tiny. It’s just logic.” 

Frodo crossed his eyes trying to follow Fili’s thinking. “Don’t let your tutors hear you making up nonsense like that. Wait, aren’t you supposed to be with Balin today?” 

Fili had completely pulled Frodo up, waddling awkwardly back to where Kili was laughing at them. “Yes, well, apparently something’s going on in the mountain because Balin got a message and ran off like his beard was on fire.” 

“And you thought that meant you were done for the day?” 

“Obviously.” Fili replied, dropping Frodo straight onto Kili’s lap. He managed to avoid Kili’s retaliatory kick, instead falling onto his legs and pinning him. 

“I can’t believe you’re the one who’s going to be king.” Kili groaned, unable to strike back without fear of hurting Frodo. Knowing this, and wanting to avoid the pair getting into a scuffle, Frodo remaining on Kili’s belly, surprised with how nice a cushion it made. 

Unfortunate that he then chose to say as much. 

“You are getting a belly, aren’t you brother?” Fili teased, reaching over to poke at Kili’s belt. “Getting soft.” 

“You’re one to talk!” Kili shouted back, momentarily forgetting Frodo’s safety in his attempt at freeing his legs. “Dwalin’s going to make you climb the mountain if you can’t keep up with his training.” 

“What do you think is happening that Balin ran off in such a hurry?” 

Both brothers stopped their fighting to think over Frodo’s question. 

“Uncle got news that Dain is on his way for a visit?” Fili speculated. 

“Mother finally got fed up with the court and stabbed a judge?” Kili offered. 

“Mother finally got fed up with Uncle and stabbed him?” Even Frodo had to admit that one sounded like a possibility. 

Kili shifted in a way that jostled Frodo, making him fall back onto Fili until they were even more tangled, though neither brother seemed to mind. Frodo certainly did. They’d crush his flowers at this rate. “Whatever it is, it’s probably boring. Better to stay out here.” 

“So you’ll be able to help me find the flowers I need?” Frodo asked, earning a groan from the pair. 

“Why won’t you let us just make you flowers?” Fili asked, grabbing the sweet pea from his hands. “I could easily make this. And then they won’t die.” 

“Olwen already makes flowers out of gems. I could just ask her if I need anything like that.” 

“Olwen the jewelry maker?” 

He nodded, reaching for his current bundle of flowers where the simple charm was. “She’s very talented.” 

Kili laughed and Frodo’s face flushed when he could feel his laughter through his legs. “No wonder Uncle was talking about her.” 

“What?” 

“I overheard him talking with Bilbo. Something about keeping an eye on something, I honestly wasn’t paying much attention. He must think she likes you and is seeing if she’s good enough.” 

Fili leaned forward, resting his chin on Frodo’s shoulder. “Of course she isn’t. No one’s good enough for our tiny burglar.”

“Not your burglar.” Frodo huffed. “And Olwen wouldn’t be interested in anything like that. Not with me.” 

“Looking for compliments are you?” 

Frodo tried not to pout, if only because it would only lead to more teasing. They didn’t often make fun of him for his concerns of being a hobbit among dwarves, but he didn’t expect them to skip an opportunity to tease if he brought it up. He was aware of how he must appear. Too small, too short, with big feet and curly hair only barely long enough to braid. Hardly handsome. Dori’s oldest had once confided in him that by dwarf standards it was the brothers Ri who were most desired, with their carefully crafted beards and sturdy build. Frodo had only believed it when he noticed how often Ori’s walks in the market were interrupted by a stray miner tipping his hat or eager conversation with passing strangers. 

But Frodo didn’t think of it often. Not when he was so like his uncle who had managed to marry a dwarf who by anyone’s standards was quite handsome. Not that he was looking just for handsome. Not that he was looking for much of anything. 

“I’m not looking for anything!” Frodo said, cheeks heating. 

Both brothers gave him a look, one which he couldn’t quite identify, before he was caught in the middle of a strong grip that he only later realized was a hug. His flowers would most certainly be crushed afterwards, but he found he didn’t quite care. 

“Um, Fili? Kili?” He whispered after a minute passed and the hug showed no sign of letting up. 

“Hush.” Fili said right into his ear.

“You’ll ruin it.” Kili said on the other side. 

Well, he certainly didn’t want that.

\--

The dragon, fowl beast that he was, had not destroyed as much as the mountain as time and neglect had. Most of his rage had been focused from his arrival at the front gate and down the halls leading to the treasury, and even that had been easy to fix once skilled workers returned. The trouble had been the areas of the mountain that had barely existed safely when they had been inspected yearly. 

Certain stairways were still cut off, deemed unsafe by those who could tell such things with just a glance. A few pillars were no longer trusted in their tasks of holding up levels of the mountain. Most was safe after the many years of reconstruction, but at least once a month Thorin would follow the stone workers as they pointed out dangers that needed attention. 

It was on such a journey that he found a small set of rooms, once meant to house livestock during the winter months, with a crumbling staircase as the only means to return to higher levels. 

“It’s perfect.” Thorin announced to his consort who only gave him a dark glare in return. 

“My King, why would we need this space?” Gloin asked. “We can just use the guest suites like we always do.” 

“Because he still has it in his thick skull that he’ll repay Thranduil for putting him in his dungeons with something equally childish.” Bilbo answered with an irritated huff. “Really, Thorin, it’s been too long for you to still be holding this grudge.” 

“Mere moments in the life of an elf.” He grumbled, sounding very much like he was quoting the Elf King. 

Bilbo rolled his eyes and followed one of the workers who had started pointing out where repairs were needed on one of the walls. 

The moment he was out of sight Thorin turned back to the run down stables. “We could put some hay in that corner.” 

“These trade negotiations need to get done without any bloodshed. Just let Bilbo do all the talking and they’ll be gone in mere days.” 

Thorin tapped the wall, as though testing its strength. Or more likely testing to see if it would fall in with enough force. Perhaps trapping someone for a few days. There was a thought. It wouldn’t necessarily be his fault if the prat got stuck in there. Perhaps during a tour. 

“Bilbo won’t let you hear the end of it if you do something stupid.” Gloin reminded him, finally putting an end to his scheming. 

“He needn’t come. His son does well enough representing the forest. Just send the lad.” 

Gloin chuckled into his beard. “That ‘lad’ is older than you and I together. But you are right and with any luck he’ll keep his father in check.” 

He made sure to keep any thought of Bilbo doing the same with Thorin to himself. 

Their tour of the mountain and its many areas still in need of repair took most of the afternoon, long enough that Bilbo had started complaining about missing tea. After dismissing Gloin to begin organizing the repairs Thorin finally got a good look at his consort, who had managed to get webs in his hair and dust all over his trousers. 

If he looked that bad Thorin must have looked a disaster. 

“Enjoying the view, oh King?” Bilbo teased after he sent a maid off for tea. 

He rather did enjoy the view. Often, if he had his way. It hadn’t been easy convincing Bilbo to dress less like a gentle hobbit and more like a dwarven lord but the result had been worthwhile. Though he often complained over the weight of his clothing Thorin found Bilbo looked regal when wearing the heavy tunics and rich colors favored among his people. 

Though, much as he loved Bilbo in dwarven clothes, he looked best without anything of the sort. 

“Oh no, I know that look.” Bilbo glared, not at all surprised when he was hoisted over Thorin’s shoulder. “I just sent for tea!” 

“And you are also covered in webs and dust. Nothing a quick soak can’t help.” 

Bilbo wiggled in Thorin’s grasp, not for fear of falling but because if he was getting a ride he might as well get a nice view out of it. “You are also covered in webs and dust.” 

“So I am.” He could hear the grin Thorin was no doubt wearing. “And it would be a shame to waste water.” 

They did end up in their tub, which Thorin had commissioned not long after Bilbo’s return from the Shire when it was obvious that they were too snug in the previous tub. And they did end up clean, though Bilbo had to spend a good ten minutes making sure every web was gone from Thorin’s hair. But whatever plans Thorin had for their time together were cut short when a maid opened the door, her back turned to them but trying to bow all the same. 

“I’m so sorry! Master Balin says he must speak with you. He says it’s urgent!” 

Thorin dismissed the poor girl and with great reluctance freed Bilbo so they could dress. “I must have words with Balin about what constitutes as urgent.” 

“Hush, it may be important.” Bilbo said as he plaited a quick braid in Thorin’s hair. Urgent did not mean one didn’t have a moment to look presentable, at least in Bilbo’s mind. 

It must have been urgent, because instead of sitting and helping himself to Bilbo’s tea as he normally would have Balin was pacing the length of the fireplace and twisting his beard. He started at their approach but seemed to calm. 

“What is the matter?” Thorin asked, clasping his oldest friend on the shoulder. 

“Thranduil has arrived.” 

“That’s hardly urgent.” Bilbo huffed into his tea. “Though a few days early.” 

“As upsetting as that is, why not set them into their rooms and have them wait to be received?” 

“The pipes for the steam that heats the guest rooms are still being repaired. We thought we had more time and they won’t be ready for at least two more days.” Balin sighed, accepting a cup of tea from Bilbo. “Dis has them in her receiving rooms for now but we’ll need somewhere to keep them.” 

Thorin brightened but received a sharp nudge from Bilbo that kept him quiet. 

“They can stay in my rooms. I never use them anymore.” 

“That pointy eared bastard isn’t sleeping in this wing! And they’d be right next to Frodo!” 

Bilbo waved his hand as though brushing away the words. “It’ll be fine. Frodo can lock his doors. Or stay in Fili and Kili’s room if you’re that concerned about it. And it’s just two days.” 

“I won’t have it!” Thorin roared. 

Bilbo glared. “We need a place to put them where they won’t feel insulted. Just for two days, Thorin.” 

Thorin looked to Balin who nodded was nodding in agreement. The traitor. 

“I don’t like this.” Thorin huffed. 

“Fair enough. Balin, show them to my rooms and let them know this is only while we finish with those pipes.” 

With a final look to his king Balin bowed and tottered off, leaving Bilbo to the silent rage of his husband. 

“Stop that. It’s only sensible.” 

“I don’t want him so close. There’s a fine stable we could put them in.” 

“You’ll start a war at this rate.” Bilbo said as he settled in his chair. With Balin handling the elves and where to put them he was free to finish his tea. “I’m surprised you’re not excited. New arrivals for you to have followed around.” 

Thorin was decent enough to not act as though he didn’t know what Bilbo was talking about. “I’m not having anyone followed. Besides, I would never let our Frodo marry an elf.” 

“Because they’re pointy eared bastards?” Bilbo pushed some curls away from his own ears, pleased when Thorin looked ashamed. “It would certainly help with an alliance if one of ours married one of theirs.” 

“None of them would be worthy of Frodo.” 

“Nor Kili or Fili, I imagine. There was talk of that boy Legolas marrying one of ours, after the battle was finished.” And by talk he meant Balin had suggested it once only to be glared at by everyone at the peace negotiations. 

“Not a boy. Older than my grandfather had been.” Still… “He isn’t nearly as aggravating as his father.” 

Bilbo shrugged. He didn’t dislike Thranduil as much as Thorin, but saying so would cause a row. “He was very helpful with rebuilding Dale. Bard still speaks kindly of him. I think they’re even friends.” 

A friend of Dale, a prince of the once Greenwood, and someone who obviously had experience in dealing with the whims of the Elf King. Good qualities. 

“He’s still an elf.” Thorin growled as he turned to prepare for the upcoming unpleasantness of trade negotiations. 

But still, the thought was already taking root in his mind. 

‘Not the worst option.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...been a while, hasn't it? Somewhere between the last chapter and this one I got a full time grown up job so I've been a bit preoccupied. Also writer's block, that cruel mistress. But this starts the "holy crap would I let my adopted son marry an elf" train of thought from Thorin and it's only going to get worse. And yes, the boy's didn't figure out what Thorin's up to. Whoops. Also now's a good time to mention that this is going to be (more or less) book universe because otherwise I'd be tempted to make the next few chapters all about Tauriel and my unending love for her. I'll spare y'all that.


End file.
